Kael squinted as he pushed open the large church doors. The evening light blinded him for a moment, but he soon realized that something was wrong—very wrong.
The once-quiet village was now in turmoil.
The fog had thickened, spreading in thick veils like smoke from a smoldering furnace. It flowed through the streets like a living thing, brushing against the walls of houses, embracing the corpses that had once lain motionless on the ground... and now moved again.
The villagers—or what remained of them—were everywhere. They crawled, staggered, or simply ran with exposed claws and hollow eyes. More deformed than before. More savage. They roared like beasts as they approached the church, as if something attracted them... or enraged them.
Kael took two steps forward, Klee right behind him. He raised one hand and conjured a small circle of flames to ward off the nearest undead.
"They haven't stopped..." he muttered, his gaze alert. "They've grown stronger."
